


Five Times He Meant To Miss And The One Time He Didn't

by Sporadic_fics



Series: Winterhawk Bingo 2019-2020 [1]
Category: Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bucky Barnes as Captain America, Clint Barton has a panic attack, Deaf Clint Barton, Established Relationship, M/M, Platonic Love, Ronin Clint Barton, Sexy Times, Thoughts of a certain character being dead- he is not dead, as well as Romantic love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 11:03:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21427165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sporadic_fics/pseuds/Sporadic_fics
Summary: The five times he meant to miss and the one time he didn't (and that time it sort of ruined his life. Oopsy daisy.)
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Series: Winterhawk Bingo 2019-2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571671
Comments: 8
Kudos: 80
Collections: Winterhawk Bingo





	Five Times He Meant To Miss And The One Time He Didn't

**Author's Note:**

> Winterhawk Bingo 2019 Bingo slot- Ronin/Cap!Bucky

1 .

The first person Clint ever missed (and ever loved) was a young woman with as much red covering her past as Clint. She was angry, passionate and he found that he could relate to her. The thing is, he should have never been able to love Natasha and her fierce blue eyes because he should have shot an arrow straight through her chest but there was something about her that made him quickly jerk to the right, only just scraping her shoulder and letting her get away from the area.

Natasha had looked up at him, her eyes wide and a thankful smile on her face before she scurried off in a blur of red and black.

She had found him in a dingy apartment with a black duffle bag by his feet. He wasn’t surprised by her when she crawled through the window, just raised a brow and had an impressed look on his face. She had held her gun straight at him, ready to shoot at any time before she asked, “Why did you intentionally miss me?”

“I don’t know, I just felt like it wasn’t your time to die,” Clint stood and held out the duffle bag to her. “Besides, according to my S.H.I.E.L.D report, I tripped and missed.”

Natasha held the bag in one hand, lowering the gun slightly. Her eyes were frantic but her brow was furrowed in thought.

“I like you.”

They had been partners ever since, looking out for each other no matter what.

2.

Steve was fighting the Winter Soldier again, Steve knew it was Bucky but the Winter Soldier was still denying it, not fully understanding why Steve was begging him to stop fighting. Steve was covered in dirt and blood with his clothes ripped, mirroring Bucky perfectly and the Avengers were hiding behind corners, waiting for a signal to go in and help Steve but he was fine on his own, telling them all to stay back. The Avengers shouldn’t have been there anyway, they only found out about it when Sam contacted them, distressed over how the Winter Soldier was acting.

He had every right to be worried, the Winter Soldier was erratic, yelling at Steve that he wasn’t Bucky, that he would never be him which was fair enough but he was becoming more and more violent as frustration coursed through him.

Steve spotted Clint as he was spun by Bucky in an intricate but violent dance, he saw how Steve’s eyes widened in horror as he took in Clint’s position and how he shook his head minutely. As Steve fell onto his back, his hand swiped at his ear and Clint could hear a crackle through his hearing aids.

“Please, Clint, don’t do this, it’s Bucky. He’s my friend.”

Clint kept his stance with his posture straight with the arrow still aimed directly at Bucky’s head. Bucky quickly looked around, seeing where Clint was far too quickly for Clint’s liking.

“Shoot him down. Now Clint.” Tony’s voice broke through the tense silence, panic lacing his voice.

Bucky’s hands were held to his head, his gun hanging loosely from one of his hands. He had a small smirk and his eyes seemed to twinkle with amusement. He was daring Clint to take the shot while Steve was begging Clint not to, trying to cover Tony’s demands of taking the shot. It was overwhelming and he was about to shoot the arrow through Bucky’s head out of frustration but he saw how Bucky’s smirk fell at the hesitation and how his eyes widened in desperation.

“Okay.” Tony sounded pleased at his response as Steve scrambled up to try and push Bucky out of the way.

He took the shot and watched as the gun flew out of Bucky’s hand, how he slumped in defeat against Steve. Through Steve’s comms he heard Bucky faintly cry out about how he can’t be Bucky, he only ever remembers being a monster.

Clint wasn’t known as Clint anymore, he had taken up the identity of Ronin and had never looked back until one day he heard that a new Captain America had appeared. Both curious and furious by somebody else taking Steve’s mantle he decided to investigate it.

Ronin looking at the new Captain America, the man was definitely not Steve Rogers, he was at least five inches shorter, he was a tiny bit thinner than the blond bombshell that was Steve but had a better ass. The way the man fought was familiar to Ronin, it was more brutal and efficient than Steve. The man would find the quickest way to kill a person whereas Steve usually punched his way through a crowd, thinking of ways for the entire team to win the fight. This man worked best alone, moving from one opponent to the next with ease- this man just wanted to go home.

Ronin tilted his head to the side, curious as to why this fighting style looked so familiar when it twigged in his mind: Bucky. Ronin, back when he was known as Hawkeye, had scoured hours of footage of the Winter Solider with Tony and he even sparred with him so he knew how he fought. 

His anger subsided as he watched Bucky fight, he couldn’t be mad at the late Steve Rogers’ best friend. It made sense for the mantle to go to him but Ronin felt a sense of unease, still feeling like there should only be one man under the suit and Bucky wasn’t that man. From what he had seen over the years, Bucky belonged in tac gear that had dozens of straps, sheaths and holsters attached which made Ronin’s hum in appreciation. 

Bucky was that distracted with the three men attacking him that he didn’t see the man coming up behind him with a dagger so Ronin pulled an arrow from his quiver so he could pull his bow tight, landing an arrow in the man’s shoulder, missing any vital parts of the body so Bucky could swing around and take the kill.

Ronin pulled off his quiver and leant it against the wall alongside his bow, finally giving up the last piece of the Hawkeye mantle before walking away, giving one sad glance at Bucky who looked him with shock and tears, not seeing the face behind the Ronin mask but understanding fully who it was when he saw the purple stripe along the bow. Bucky was swallowed up by Hydra agents, shouting out a ‘wait’ as he left.

When Bucky finally got back to the Avengers building he had run to his bedroom that held a very alive but very injured Steve Rogers. Steve looked at him blearily, still bed-bound from his almost death a few weeks before, confused at the abrupt entrance. Bucky had ripped off the mask of the suit as he ran to the room and held the bow and quiver up to Steve.

“He’s alive Steve, Clint is alive.”

Bucky hadn’t seen Steve cry in a long time and it broke his heart as Steve clutched an arrow to his chest, sobbing that he was alive, easing some of the guilt from the accident where Steve had been pronounced dead at the scene, no pulse found until minutes later where Thor had zapped his chest lightly. Clint had already disappeared at this point, terrified beyond relief. Bucky held back tears, his strong jaw wobbling.

Natasha and Bucky had travelled everywhere there for a trace of him, finding nothing. Bucky had held a crying Natasha, crying alongside her, on more nights than he could count.

It had been a long time since Clint last saw Bucky, months had turned into years and he could help but stare in awe at how beautiful Bucky still was. 

Bucky was at a club dressed in tight fake leather pants, his grey shirt was also tight and his hair was tied into a half ponytail, it was a sight Ronin truly adored. Bucky seemed happy, a little tired, but happy nonetheless with a huge grin on his face as he talked to a skinny blond. Clint couldn’t help but smile, Bucky really liked his blonds.

Bucky’s grin faltered as his eyes skimmed the crowd, seeing Clint in the distance. He kept his composure, talking to the blond for a little while longer but keeping his focus on Clint’s whereabouts for a majority of the conversation. He eventually excused himself with a small apology, saying that he had to meet an old friend. It wasn’t a lie.

Bucky made it look like he was going to the bathroom, knowing that Clint hadn’t seen his realisation, so Clint jumped and swung his fist when Bucky lightly trailed his fingers along Clint’s arm. Clint was in an area not many could see, hell, Bucky had only seen him because he was a sniper which meant he could see the more subtle details so when Bucky pinned him against the wall with a feral grin, nobody saw it.

“Looking hot, Barnes.” Bucky blushed a little, scowling up at Clint.

“Where the hell have you been, Clint?”

“Oh, you know,” Clint wrapped his free hand around Bucky’s neck to pull Bucky close to him. “To hell and back.”

Bucky looked at him sadly, his thumb rubbing at Clint’s wrist before he curled his fingers around Clint’s so he could get out of the club with him. 

Clint ended up wrapping his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, his hand still wrapped in Bucky’s. From a strangers perspective, they would look like a cute couple but Bucky knew Clint was being careful, scared that Bucky would try and fight him. It was his way of protecting himself and Bucky felt his heart crack in half.

Bucky felt Clint bend his head down so he could whisper in Bucky’s ear, “I’ve missed you.”

It was raw, with his voice cracking and Bucky was pretty sure it was the only thing Clint could say with one hundred percent honesty, too busy guarding his heart against any more pain. Bucky nuzzled his head against Clint’s, allowing Clint’s presence to relax him fully, even if he knew that Clint could turn on him at that moment. 

“I wish you came home sooner.”

Clint didn’t respond to that, instead, he ghosted his lips against Bucky’s cheek. It hurt the smaller man, reminded that for the past two years Clint had been just that: a ghost. He wondered whether Clint would stay for the night, in his grasp for as long as possible or if he would fade away.

Clint’s dragged Bucky into his old apartment, nothing had changed, it had even been dusted and clearly lived in with the fresh pizza box on the counter.

“How long?”

“A few days,” Clint pulled Bucky onto his lap, his head against his chest, his thumb rubbing at his waistband. “I had to make sure it was safe.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Bucky’s strong fingers dragged through Clint’s hair, pulling his head to the side to reveal big, blue eyes peering up at him.

“I couldn’t come back here,” Clint’s eyes closed, his jaw tensing for a moment. “Not for you or for Nat.”

Bucky pulled away, getting to his feet and walking to the door. In sheer panic, Clint jumped up so he could pull Bucky back to him, it was a gentle tug, spinning a reluctant Bucky to Clint’s chest.

“I have so many bad memories here.”

“I get that, I really do but you know Steve is alive. It was all over the news when he stepped back out into society. Fully healed.”

Clint ran a tentative finger across Bucky’s jaw, his breath stuttering against his lips, “I only found out a few days ago. Everything Avengers related was blocked from all of the devices I own because all I could remember is Steve screaming in pain and having no pulse.”

Bucky cupped Clint’s jaw as a few stray tears fell down his cheeks.

“It was on me that he got hurt, I fucked up. I had to go so they-” he shook his head, “so you couldn’t get hurt by me fucking up.”

Bucky pushed Clint back to the couch so he could straddle his lap again, Clint’s head back in his chest as small sobs left him. Bucky was sat in stunned silence, his hands running over Clint’s back to try and soothe him, he narrowed his eyes at the tissue box at the side of the sofa and grabbed it so he could dab at Clint’s eyes.

“He’s fine, we all are,” Bucky gave a pained smile. “The only thing wrong is that you are not home, safe, with us.”

When Clint’s sobs finally subsided and his face was cleaned up he stared up at Bucky intently, one hand gently tracing Bucky’s face and the other sliding down the seem of Bucky’s fake leather pants.

“All dressed up for someone in particular?” 

“Yes,” he leant down so he could press his forehead to Clint’s. “You see I heard this cute, tall blond who is really good at archery was going to be there. I had to look good for him now didn’t I?”

Clint pushed himself up so he could press his lips against Bucky’s, his arms curling around Bucky’s waist to keep him pressing snug to Clint while Bucky’s hands gripped at his face. When Clint pulled away to catch his breath, he also turned and flipped them so Clint was laid on his back, Bucky towering above him. 

Clint’s mouth was captured by his, small rolls of Bucky’s hips met his own so he ended up whining needily into Bucky’s mouth, his hand trailing to Bucky’s bulge to rub at him. Bucky pulled away abruptly, his chest heaving and Clint looked at him with worry.

“We going to need lube and a condom?”

Clint nodded hastily, pushing Bucky back so he could stand and go to his bedroom to get the lube and condom. 

“You better be naked when I get back,” Clint cackled to himself. “Buck naked!”

He rolled his eyes, used to hearing the joke, but got naked nonetheless, anxiety creeping into him. He hadn’t been with anybody since Clint left so his nerves crept up his back making him tense as he folded his clothes and placed them on a chair nearby. 

Clint threw the condom at Bucky (which he caught deftly) and then threw the lube at Bucky, purposely missing him and throwing it behind Bucky so he could bend down to grab it. Clint was met with a beautiful sight, he couldn’t help but smirk and walk towards Bucky, his hands tracing lightly at his hips as Bucky stood up straight.

“I know you missed on purpose,” Bucky broke off with a moan as Clint started pressing open-mouthed kisses along his neck. “You never miss.”

Bucky then turned, grabbed Clint and threw him onto the couch with a grin.

5.

Clint left his own apartment that morning, before Bucky woke up, leaving a note with a thousand apologies, saying he had demons to get rid of before he could come home for good.

Clint had left a small, chaste kiss to Bucky’s forehead, guilt wrapping around him but he knew it was for the best, not letting anyone else get dragged into his mess. 

A few months later, Clint was with the bad guys. He couldn’t get out of it, it was a deal made in anger and confusion months ago but his chest hurt when he saw the avengers fighting the people he was with. So instead, he ran for it, finding the best angles to go for his team. 

He had small daggers in his pocket, he would easily be able to take out at least three people and he was sure Nat would have a spare gun so he could take out even more. The team he was with, was the full team so if they all went down then his last demon would be gone for good and he could finally go home to his team. To Bucky.

“Ronin, go for the one in the garish blue.”  _ Steve. That fucker wanted Steve. _

Clint had already seen Steve die once before, it had broken his heart and ripped him away from his family. It wouldn’t happen again.

“Got it.” 

Clint stood and started throwing the knives, four people went down, a knife stuck in each of their necks. He clipped a hook on to the ledge of the building before leaping off of it, the wire slowing his fall so he could land on the ground to throw two more knives, taking the distraction of Natasha and Bucky shooting at them.

“Oops, I missed!”

He carried on his assault on the enemies of his family with his sword, eventually ripping his mask off so his team could see his face. His hearing aids crackled as Tony hacked into the comm so the team could speak to him as he carried on his attack.

“Clint?” His name was followed by several gunshots, Natasha’s voice breaking through the onslaught making him face her briefly, giving her a small smile.

When the Avengers were surrounded by injured (and dead) bodies Bucky ended up running to Clint, spinning him so he could investigate his body for any injuries. When he was happy that there were none, Bucky pulled him into a hug.

“I told you I wouldn’t be gone long, I just had some people to deal with.” Bucky hugged him tighter. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Each Avenger ended up giving Clint a hug, all except for Natasha, who pulled him to the side in the Quinjet, placed her head against Clint’s shoulder and softly thumped him with her fist.

“Don’t you ever do that again.” Her fist gently punctuating each word as she grumbled.

“I won’t.”

Steve gave him a relieved smile as he walked by them, “I’m sorry you had to see me die.”

It was Clint who pulled him into a second hug, no one said anything as the two men cried, both of them still shaken from the accident that happened all those years ago.

  * 1

Clint kept his promise, he stayed by the Avengers sides. He always kept their backs on a mission, returning to his bow and arrows that Bucky had kept safely wrapped in silk in the ottoman at the bottom of his bed. 

He always joined the ‘Avengers pile’ which consisted of every one of the original Avengers laying on top of each other after a bad day (Thor would be the one on the bottom and they found that Thor actually slept the best when swaddled by his closest friends on Midgard). 

He attended every movie night, even when he was supposed to be in the hospital that one night where he broke three ribs and his collarbone. 

Clint also kept up his physical contact with the Avengers, which none of them minded, due to the days he would wake up shivering, his nights haunting him of losing one of them like he had lost Steve.

The night of the accident plagued Clint quite often, after all, it was the one and only time he missed his target and hadn’t meant to. Clint had his string pulled taut, the arrow about to fly through the air to hit Rumlow between the eyes but he had been caught off guard by a flash of light in the distance so the arrow had hit Rumlow’s shoulder. It had given Rumlow the chance to stumble forward and shoot Steve through the chest.

Clint had screamed and screamed through his comm begging for help as he carried on shooting his arrows through the air at anyone who wasn’t an Avenger. When he heard Tony whisper that he was dead, Clint had frozen, grabbing his gear and ran.

Bucky would hold Clint close to him when he went through an attack. Sometimes he would whisper against Clint’s skin, knowing that even though Clint couldn’t hear him, it relaxed him. Clint would curl his larger body into Bucky’s, small shudders leaving him, as Bucky text Steve and the others for a check-in.

Bucky then slid the phone into view when all of them responded, making sure Clint had seen all of the responses and time stamps. Tony had made it so whenever there needed to be a check-in then no matter what, someone would know they got the notification. If they were out on a mission then they would get a series of small vibrations on their wrist, as well as three low beeps heard over their comms, if they had their phones on silent then their phone would go off and if they were in a room with no phone then a purple light would go on. Jarvis worked wonders.

It was only when Clint was fast asleep that Bucky would text the group that he was okay and allow himself to sleep, still curled tightly into Clint.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
